Monday, September 28, 2009


i tried to go to church this morning and did. got in, dropped one off at the nursery and convinced the other to sit with me in a heavily cushioned pew. luckily, it was blessing of the animals day. lucky. between my hearing crap, the large pillar, the snuffling child trying to do cartwheels 'quietly', and the barking, i did not get much of the beloved quiet time of church. and then, it got to be time for churchschool so we walked on out and I NEVER GOT BACK IN.

I know that all of this is regular, rigamarole-sh even. But I'm feeling such a desparate need for quiet and for solitude and solace, and I'm shaken by my inability to do it.. I'm trying to give myself opportunities for placitude. platitude. not sure. I will say that I am shaken by my constant shakiness. what is causing this desparation? why can't i just accept the stage I am in, the ages of my children ? the fact is that most mothers of youngones cannot get quiet time. so why is my disappointment so vast? VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAST.
i want to deposit my children like suitcases at the door, like my highschool backpack that simply traveled to and fro without ever being opened. dropped. and picked up later, with a large quiet gap in the meantime.
and coffee, and chocolate, and some GOD.

Friday, September 25, 2009


sometimes i feel like a crazy person, with all my rising and falling all the time. not the sort of crazy that recognizes its craziness, thereby proving its sanity... but the real crazy. my husband has been writing a poem nominally about bread for the past three years and so it is much on my mind, the rise and the fall and the smells and the yeast and what I make of it, what it makes of me, as we tussle with our independences and our purpose. I am preparing to leave here for a week and while desparate to do this thing, to step away and see my lovelysoul friend pam for the first time in two years, I am currently bereft, in advance, of my two boys. I am overcome with longing for them to snuggle, to smell their boysmellstink all over the house and my world. I am done with multitasking while i ask these things of them and they refuse-sometimes. but i'm lingering at the edges of their foggy bogs and so I catch them unawares, in these moments of rise and fall...

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


i had the most amazing experience this morning. a friend from eighth grade/freshman year came to visit. She moved to texas roughly then and we haven't spent time together since. and here she was, she's just left an entire life- cleaned out her apartment of 15 years and moved on. . . clean and light. and no, she doesn't necessarily feel that way-but knows it is right for her.

really amazing to think about. as she was telling her story and my kids were rollicking and rolling and screaming and yes, even smacking, crying and flinging... i was in awe. what a space to be in..

what would I do in that space? (getting there without trauma would be preferable and i'm really referrring to the space internal)
How do people meditate with young children ? how can i get up early enough to have a moment alone when i don't sleep so i cannot technically awaken?

If i could even expand my mind to get there? my tiny tiny little mind. and AND i am using this photo again because i really love that it is a horse's ass, not because i had forgotten i had already used it. ehem.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

nuff said?

pesto, pushers and carousels... so so blissed out...

Friday, September 18, 2009

melancholic and inspiring

there is something in the wind. i love the fall and have been looking all around at its beauty and the food that i am dreaming of and the rocks and the coldness of the water and just blissing out. but it does not come without a price and the sense of melancholy that hangs out on the underside of the leaf is just palpable these days. in the house, we have a hubby who loves what he does all day long but cannot get out of his own way now that he has achieved this longdreamedof goal. depression has some funny shades.

the boys are both in new phases, and the flu is about to spend some time with us, sending us all out and up into a new place yet again. we are hoarding the elderberry of our summers.

:) someone i like a lot wrote that she was the 'momb' and i like that a whole hell of a lot. me too, and i'm going to go take my zinc right now, so i can be the last momb standing when the storm hits us. and i'm going to go find the candles that i can't use because the house would burn...

Thursday, September 17, 2009

self recognition

today is one of those days wherein i literally do not recognize the woman in the mirror. who the hell is that? i should know her, she's wearing one of my older sweaters and I swear those are the jeans i got at savers- my hair is strange (maybe because it is clean?) and puffy and my face is grey and haggard and i have a larger ass than I ever thought I did. (the larger ass actually makes me happy as I've always had a washboard ass and it is good to make it right.) I'm not upset with myself, just unfamiliar. whats that all about? you? a crappy day/week/phase in the marriage and i'm all adrift out of the body. blagh.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Rock it.

ROCKET. Rock it. wreck it.

life with boys.

i cannot decorate for fall with a candle, the house will burn, nor can i use tablecloths for they will fall.

I CAN play forts for seventeen hours straight.

The vacuum is a horse, works hard and gets ridden. clydesdale.

lots of hair, all over the place. and my boys are not pansies. well, if they are, then so be it. but its not because of the hair.

The soundtrack of our lives is star wars-ian interspersed with singsong-ian.

blasters and itsybitsies.

you know what i'm saying.

and here we are again.

rock it.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Boys and Weaponry

and again. in order to get the four year old out of my bed, i am offering him the chance to win a weapon. seriously. a weapon. all my inner demons are raging, some of them in a congratulatory fashion, and there is some flagellating going on as well. The boy will win a 'light saber' IF he can sleep in his own bed for five nights . I'm so f'in tired that the idea that I'll get five nights on my own WAY outweighs the possibility that I'm sacrificing all of my ethics for this gain. AND THERE IS NOT A CHANCE IN HELL THAT I'LL GET FIVE NIGHTS OF SLEEP. so, does this count as a true sacrifice? if one does not believe it shall come to pass? I feel like getting biblical in an old-school, old-testament sort of way. anything for sleep. anything.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Back on the JUJU and scattered...

yes, well.

it may all be temporary, but things here seem to be settling out.. . even though I am STILL not Prince, I have channeled him on occasion in the past week, if only through some sassy/sneaky times with my husband. must love the purple pumps, the pompadour, the 'wrecka sto' or whathaveyou that man keeps afloat. . .

The weather helps, a lot. I bought a sugar pumpkin and will attempt my first ever, from scratch, pumpkin pie, hubbies favorite...

School begins and I have not one single second of chagrin as the boy grows up and starts another Fall. My moments of chagrin and mindless groping for more 'time' seem to fling themselves at my feet at the hour of 4, when I'm wondering about myself. Big boy is on a wild path, and there 'should' be no chagrin on my part as he cruises at his most fuel-efficient speed.

The JUJU fish are back in my life again. we had said 'so long' but here they are... in the driver's seat. fine, fine, but i will regain control sometime soon. at least, of the fish.

-I love that the blogs I read have all taken longer and longer gaps at this end of the summer season, and I love that they are slowly climbing back upwards in frequency... this cyclical showing of family lives. . .

Thursday, September 3, 2009

So. Chakra Carol. (i am not Prince)

I'm thrilled to see her, every time. thrilled. And I'm aware of how rare a sensation it is for me, these days, to spend a thrilling time with someone which is also relaxing and rejuvenating.


and then there is the other side of the coin. which is that Carol is not easy. I mean, I lie there, I'm not in sweat or running on a treadmill, I am just lying there, sometimes talking and sometimes not... just lying there.

Yesterday Carol got me to say that I am legitimately concerned that I may not exist. Hug yourself in your laughter ladies, but it is true and has left me with a large lump of melancholy today. because it is true. all the disappointment that fuels my anger is -more than seriously- about myself and my real sense of disappointment in myself that I am not any super mom, i'm just a struggling, frequently unhappy one. All that mystery that has been mine has morphed into a 'formerly known as..' and, much as I wish, I ain't no purple robed Prince and I just can't carry it off. I am fond of blaming lack of support for my unhappiness and that is not it. I am disappointed that I am unhappy, surprised and saddened that all this isn't really enough for me. or that maybe it is, and I am a loser for it? - probably not that, i admit.

and maybe there aren't enough moments of fun and lightness and maybe i desparately need the routine of school for MYSELF to have more of those moments that other moms talk so blissfully about... the transcendent moments wherein it is all worth it.

and on that coin, what now? you realize how disappointed and angry you are that you are really NOT Prince. and then what? what do you become satisfied with? I am trying to see it as a grand opportunity for more investigation and this weather brings fitting clarity to the mornings, and things are growing, though perhaps their lights be moving under the bushels...

but damnit, carol, damnit.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

working on it, again

i'm back on the game. spent some lovely tickle time with the baby, wondered how the older one could possibly be cooler and even laughed with my husband... fast morning of cool air and cleansings.. and today i'm off to see chakra carol and i love that . please go read this...

it is fantastic. and i am very happy to be in the company of mothers.